Heat
by flowerpicture
Summary: Brendan's in need of something he can't ask for.


**AN: For the anon who requested Ste rimming Brendan. I should warn you, while this is porn from start to finish, it's not straight-up pointless filth. I couldn't help but put in a bit of, like, I don't know—what's the word I'm looking for? That thing. Emotional something or other. Anyway, hope you like it!**

**This also has a tiny, tiny hint of the Ste dominating/topping Brendan thing that so many of you have asked for. This is probably as close as I'm going to get to it for a long while.**

::: :::

Ste's roused into consciousness by the soft press of lips against the back of his neck and the deep, rumbling croon of, "Steven," in his ear. He doesn't respond, far too interested in clinging on to sleep—he's only had an hour or two at most, took him forever to fall asleep in this stifling heat. Even now, at what must be the middle of the night, the bedroom is suffocating, heat pressing down on him, making him feel clammy and itchy and uncomfortable.

Brendan seems unconcerned by any of this, however. "Steven," he murmurs again, running a hand down the bare skin of Ste's back.

Ste's lying here naked as the day he was born, the flimsy blanket he'd half-heartedly covered himself in long since kicked off to god knows where. Even the thin sheet beneath him feels overheated.

He groans, buries his face in the pillow.

"C'mon," Brendan says, pulling on Ste's shoulder to make him turn over.

Ste sighs and goes with it, rolls over onto his back to find Brendan leaning over him, his eyes dark with arousal.

"What d'ya want?" he grumbles, yawning, rubbing a hand over his face. His body might have perked up by the sight of Brendan's obvious lust, but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it.

"You," Brendan says simply before leaning down and stealing a kiss which, despite himself, Ste presses into.

"Have you just got back?" Ste asks when the kiss breaks and Brendan moves on to his throat, his collarbone, pushing wet kisses into his skin and roaming his hands over Ste's sides and hips. Systematically stirring a different heat within Ste.

Brendan hums affirmation under his breath and shifts to climb over Ste, settle between his thighs. He's naked and hard, his skin damp as Ste skims hands over his waist, the scent of soap filtering into the air between them. He's come home from work and had a shower, and at some point managed to work himself up enough to drag Ste into his arousal.

Ste's not going to complain, not now he's properly awake and presented with a completely exposed Brendan whose desperation for him is etched all over his face. "C'mere," he says, pulling Brendan down for a kiss. It brings them into contact, hot skin against skin, Ste's cock swelling with desire as Brendan, hard and ready, nestles in next to it.

Brendan shifts his hips, and Ste groans into his mouth—the sound cut off by Brendan sweeping his tongue in—and pushes his hands into Brendan's wet hair to hold him there for a deep, bruising kiss. He's been with Brendan for months now and still every kiss feels monumental and ardent and like Brendan's never needed anything more in his life.

Ste gets lost in the kiss, gets drunk on it, the molasses-slow sweep of tongues and the clinging of lips, his eyes closed and his brain fogging up with desire. He rolls his hips, his dick gliding with slick and friction in the valley beside Brendan's, spills a moan into Brendan's mouth when Brendan starts rocking against him, creating a rhythm to move things along.

He can feel the tension in the lines of Brendan's body as he slides his hands out of Brendan's hair and roams down his back, to his waist, wanting to feel every inch of him. Brendan's on edge, more than usual, and his shallow thrusts into Ste's hips have a hint of desperation to them, his fingertips digging into the skin of Ste's shoulders and jaw as he tries to press closer, a groan of frustration rumbling in his chest.

"What d'you need?" Ste whispers against his lips, opening his eyes to the shadows lining Brendan's face, Brendan's own eyes squeezed shut as he shakes his head and kisses Ste again, not saying it, whatever he needs, something holding him back.

Ste frowns into the kiss, unsure, but the feeling sweeps out of him on a wave of lust as Brendan increases his movements, pushing against him rough and frenzied, to the point where he's going to make them both come like this and Ste doesn't want that, not now.

He spreads his legs wider, bends his knees and tilts his hips up, an offering, an invitation, for Brendan to take what he wants. But Brendan doesn't. He grunts out another hint of frustration and breaks the kiss, presses his sweat-damp forehead down onto Ste's shoulder, slows his hips until they're both just lying there, quiet, breathing through it.

Ste caresses Brendan's back, gives him a moment, then says, "Tell me what you need," low and quiet, encouraging.

Brendan's sigh is heavy and shaky against the skin of Ste's chest, his whole body holding the slightest trace of a tremble; then he sucks in a hard breath, rolls his forehead on Ste's shoulder until his face is buried and hidden in Ste's neck, almost curls his body around him as if he wants to slink away and not expose himself.

A moment later, when Ste's about to ask if he's okay, Brendan reaches behind himself, a hint of hesitation in his motion, takes Ste's hand on his lower back and pushes it down, lower, lower, until Ste's hand is curving over a buttock and then farther down and in, his fingers dipping into the crease.

And Ste thinks, _Oh_, silently to himself, his chest seizing with shock and sudden, fiery-hot arousal. Brendan's never… Ste has never been there, not once. Brendan's never allowed him to get close.

Ste knows why. He knows what happened. Knows about the one man who has touched him there, knows about the eight-year-old boy who had his innocence viciously torn from him, and why Brendan's never been able to let anyone close in that way again.

Ste's never thought to complain; what they do together is fulfilling enough, more than satisfying, and while it's crossed his mind from time to time, the desire to touch him there, to make him feel good in new ways, he's never felt as if he's missing out on anything by conceding to Brendan's refusal.

Only Brendan's not refusing now. He's asking for it. Embarrassed, hesitant, and obviously full of fear, but he wants it now, wants Ste to help him experience something he's only ever associated with pain and terror.

He's putting so much trust in Ste that it's making Ste choke on the emotion of it.

Brendan releases his hand, his intentions made clear and leaving it up to Ste to decide what happens next. Ste skims his fingertips over the skin of Brendan's buttock and whispers, "Kiss me," startlingly aware of how much Brendan needs a distraction if he's going to get through this.

There's more hesitation, and then Brendan lifts his head and looks down at Ste; his face is still cut in shadow but his eyes are clear, gazing at Ste with both trepidation and that trust Ste feels so heavily. He huffs out the softest of laughs, like he finds his own reaction to this worthy of a joke, and some of the tension eases from him.

Ste smiles, runs his fingers along the crease of Brendan's buttocks, the skin there scalding hot. "You sure you want this?"

Brendan nods, licks his lips. "Just go easy," he says, then he sighs and presses his forehead to Ste's, closes his eyes.

"Stop me any time," Ste affirms, and then tilts his face to coax him into a kiss.

He doesn't go straight for it. Teases his fingers back and forth for a minute, relaxing Brendan into the idea of it while kissing him; and when he feels Brendan soften, his body collapsing down on him a little more as he lets some of the fear go, Ste brings his hand to his mouth and breaks the kiss, ready to wet his fingers.

Brendan stops him—grabs Ste's hand and sucks two fingers in his own mouth, tongue slicking over them and coating him in saliva. He looks Ste in the eye as he does so, a glint of determination, as if this is his way of asserting some control, showing Ste he can do this, he _wants_ this, playing his own part in making it happen.

Ste watches him, his own lips parted slightly in awe and arousal, the feel of Brendan sucking on his fingers making his cock stir, his blood burn through his veins. Then Brendan releases him, kisses him instantly, shifting up and forward on his knees between Ste's spread thighs, angling his arse higher, opening himself for Ste.

Ste groans into the kisses and reaches down, dips in and finds Brendan's hole. Brendan freezes for a moment, their mouths open against each other, breaths passing between them. Then Ste gives one slow, dragging circle of Brendan's hole with his fingertip and Brendan makes a noise low in his throat before pressing into the kiss again, stealing Ste's breath.

It's an effort, reaching down far enough to play with Brendan's hole. His arm strains with it but he ignores the discomfort, traces a fingertip round and round Brendan's hole and further in, feeling it clench against the touch, flutter with the sensation, Brendan's hand by Ste's head fisting in the pillow.

Ste keeps it up until the muscles in his straining arm gets too much and he groans in frustration, desperate to start working a finger inside Brendan but unable to do so at this angle. He breaks from the kiss, gasping, to find Brendan's face flush and hot and his eyes blown.

"Let me just—" Ste says, attempting to wiggle out from under Brendan's weight. Brendan gets the idea, lifts up enough to let Ste out, and when Ste finally manages to break free he says, "Stay like that," and watches as Brendan drops his forehead onto his clasped hands, his back arched down in a slope, arse angled up in the air and waiting, needing Ste's attention.

Ste has to press down on his own dick for an instant, relieve some of the pressure there.

He gets behind Brendan, gets his first proper, laid-bare look at Brendan's hole. Brendan's knees are spread and pulled under him, making his cheeks part, his hole exposed and tense. Ste swallows, saliva pooling in his mouth as he runs a hand down Brendan's spine, his hands shaking more than the tremble that's making Brendan shiver minutely. He doesn't know which one of them is more on edge about this.

Shuffling in close behind Brendan, he smooths his palms over Brendan's hips before coming around to his buttocks and massaging them a little to ease some of the tension out of Brendan's body. Then he slips a finger into the crease, rubs over his hole, catches the rim and pushes a little, watching Brendan for a reaction.

Brendan does nothing but breathe deeply, his head still pressed down on his hands, silent and waiting, getting used to it.

But if he's letting Ste touch him there now, then maybe—

"Brendan," Ste says, rubbing faster against his hole, a bit harder, making Brendan arch his back lower, a noise pulled from his throat that could've been a response to Ste's voice, or a vocalisation of pleasure—

"You know you can trust me," Ste continues, and he leans down to press kisses along Brendan's lower back, pushes the very tip of his finger past resistance, massages the rim.

"I know," Brendan says, mutters almost, voice lost in his face buried in the backs of his hands.

Ste kisses lower, along the tops of Brendan's buttocks, waiting for him to tense up, to stop him—but he doesn't, not even when Ste trails lower still, dips his tongue into the edge of his crack.

"Don't panic," Ste murmurs to him. "Okay? Just relax."

Then he gets hold of each of Brendan's buttocks and parts them, pulling him open and wide, before dipping down and swiping the flat of his tongue across his hole.

He groans into it, can't help it, his first taste of Brendan so intimate and clean and hot, and Brendan's reaction makes him go again—a hiss of breath, knees drifting wider, the way his arse tilts slightly higher as if subconsciously needing to give Ste a better angle.

He didn't freak out, and it's enough for Ste—he starts licking his hole, lapping over it again and again, making it slick and wet and twitching against his tongue. He keeps humming pleasure into Brendan's skin, can't keep a hold on how it's making him feel, being this close to Brendan, breaking down this barrier, having the ability, now, to close his lips over the rim and suck, delighting in how Brendan's head shoots up at it, a filthy groan spilling from him as Ste pushes against him with his tongue, attempting to wiggle in past the resistance.

Brendan's hole yields in increments, enough at first for Ste to tease the inside edge of his rim, twitching and clenching around the tip of his tongue, before relaxing enough for Ste to push in, just slightly, slick his opening with saliva and make him shiver.

He pulls away enough to ask, "Is it good?" but he barely makes it to the end of the sentence before Brendan's huffing, "Keep going," at him and dropping his head down again, sweat making his back glisten, red-hot and flushed.

He goes back in with his tongue, finding the resistance looser now, manages to thrust in an inch or so, slick up his inner walls, then back out and in again, teasing him, fucking him, and Brendan's saying, "Fuck, Steven," voice torn with pleasure, lifting up on his hands and rocking back, needy for it, desperate.

Ste gives it, thrusts his tongue in and out in a quick, stabbing rhythm, licks around the muscle and goes back in, wanting to push Brendan close to the edge like this, make him realise how mindblowing this can feel.

He nearly makes himself come in the minutes that follow, so focused on Brendan's pleasure, on working his tongue in as deep as it can go, that he doesn't notice his own build of arousal, the pulsing heat of his own dick, the leak of precome dripping onto the sheet. He's sweating all over, shivering, head buzzing and veins scalding as he works deeper into Brendan's hole, sucks on the rim, lets Brendan's groans and hisses of ecstasy wash over him, lets Brendan rock back onto his face, meeting each thrust of his tongue.

Gets himself too worked up to ignore his own arousal, reaches a hand down to grab his dick and stroke it, unconcerned about finesse, needing to come and needing Brendan to come, sucking on this hole and licking in deep and feeling Brendan tremble all around him and against his face.

There's a broken mutter of, "Jesus—" and Ste increases the speed, fucking into Brendan's hole like he's starving for it, craving it, relishing the desperation in Brendan as he pushes back onto Ste's face, trying to take him in deeper.

It's enough to make an orgasm swell up in Ste without much warning and he sits up suddenly, on his knees, hushes Brendan when he says, urgently, "Don't stop—Steven—" attempting to look over his shoulder at why Ste's not eating his hole anymore.

Ste shuffles forward, still working his dick, his orgasm clawing at the edges of him. "Just let me—" he says, tries to explain, panting and moaning and pushing the head of his dick against Brendan's hole, amazed and painfully aroused at how Brendan doesn't shuffle away, panic—presses against Brendan's hole and then closer still, just a little, until the very tip of his dick pushes at the opening and he's coming, crying out, hips jolting and toes curling and his spunk spilling out and all over Brendan's hole, painting it white and leaking out the sides around the head of Ste's dick and Brendan groaning like this is working for him, the feel of Ste coming on his hole making him hotter and desperate and closer to the edge and he pushes back on Ste's dick, lets the head breach his hole just slightly, the very hint of a stretch—

"Brendan, Brendan, fuck—" Ste doesn't even know what he's saying, why he's saying it, all muscles and bones tensing and dissolving and he's a mess with it, so scalding-hot and flushed and skin slick with sweat, tremors racing through his body and come still milking out of his dick, spilling on and around and _in_ Brendan's hole and Brendan groaning, deep and hard, rocking back, so close himself without being touched—

Ste pulls back, uses his own come as lube to push two fingers into Brendan's body, the muscle loose enough to allow entry, tight and probably burning a little but Brendan's taking it, wanting it, pushing back.

"Sit back on my fingers, c'mon," Ste pants, pulling on Brendan's hip to make him sit up on his knees and down on Ste's fingers, wedging them further inside him. Once Brendan's up, shaking, back flush against Ste's chest and Ste's fingers stuffed up inside him, Ste reaches around and grabs his dick, latches his teeth onto the side of Brendan's neck, sucks on sweat and skin and heat.

Doesn't take long—three, four strokes and Brendan rocking back on his fingers, and then Brendan's coming, convulsing with it, come shooting out in an arc and hitting the pillow, Brendan heaving back against Ste's chest, rushing to grip Ste's hand around his dick and milk himself through it, dragging out the last shocks of orgasm.

Ste slows to a gentle, sensuous massage of Brendan's dick, spreading come over the skin, Brendan's fingers tangling with his, both of them slick with sweat and spunk. He pulls the fingers from his other hand out of Brendan's hole and rubs over the muscle a little, soothing it, before looping his arm around Brendan's waist and pulling him back, Brendan twisting his head around to kiss him, slow and deep.

A minute later, when they've both calmed down, they pull apart, skin hot and sticky, and collapse back on the bed, avoiding the wet patch of Brendan's come. Their hands hold contact in the space between them, Ste tracing patterns into Brendan's palm, both of them staring up at the ceiling.

Brendan lets out a whisper of a laugh, turns his head to look at Ste, who smiles at him. There's gratitude in Brendan's eyes mingled in with satisfaction and, tantalisingly, the hint of renewed lust.

Ste doesn't know if he has it in him to go again, but when Brendan rolls over, covers him like an electric blanket and murmurs, "Your turn," against his mouth, his cock twitches in renewed interest and he gasps, pleasure flooding him, as a minute or two later Brendan's down the bottom of the bed with his head buried between Ste's thighs, enthusiastically returning the favour.


End file.
